


Eurydice

by cresselia8themoon



Category: Pinky and the Brain
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hell, Lots of Angst, Oneshot, Originally posted October 2020, Pinky can't ever have a nice halloween, Why Brinky is Better than Destiel, crossposted from ffn, emotional torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:46:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28840362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cresselia8themoon/pseuds/cresselia8themoon
Summary: An alternate scenario for the Halloween episode, loosely based on the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice. Mr. Itch strikes a different deal with Brain. If Brain can make it to the surface world without looking at Pinky, the contract will be voided and Pinky's soul will be returned. And failure is not an option.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 36





	Eurydice

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this idea on Discord a month ago and I've wanted to write this scenario ever since. I love the Halloween ep so much…so how about some whump? I am not kind to our favorite mice at all, just a heads up. Also there is a serious lack of fics over the Halloween ep. It's prime material for angst.
> 
> Big shout out to Pluto who listened to me cry over torturing these poor mice over DM.

**Contract**

_I, the Brain, hereby agree to a challenge against Mr. Itch, Proprietor of Wayward Souls and Master of Hell, in which the winner shall receive Pinky's soul. Should Brain win this challenge against all impossible odds, Pinky's previous contract in which he agreed to submit himself to hell's eternal torments in exchange for Brain's dominion over the surface world shall be voided and destroyed, and he may return to the surface world with Brain. Additionally, Brain agrees to forfeit his royal claim on the world and is prohibited from future attempts at global conquest for the remainder of his days._

_Challenger Signature: The Brain_

_Drafter Signature: Mr. Itch_

_*Mr. Itch reserves the right to set the terms of the challenge at his leisure._

o-o-o-o-o

He'd been too hasty in signing the contract. The combination of brimstone and heat had to be affecting his decision-making process.

 _It's not about Pin– the food pellets_ , he told himself. Absolutely not.

But it was too late. His signature was burned into the page. Five blood-red letters would determine Pinky's fate.

And even if…no, he couldn't afford an if…when he succeeded in rescuing Pinky, he'd have to give up the world. He wouldn't even be able to try and earn his crown, scepter, and throne through his own merits.

Without the nightly ambitions, Pinky might…wish to find a different associate.

Brain's entire purpose would be gone. Forever.

He didn't listen to the convoluted, nonsensical legalese that Mr. Itch's lawyers provided. There was no need to provide metaphors or explain the situation further.

Brain understood the gist.

No matter the outcome, he would fail. And this time, the consequences were permanent.

"Think of it, Brain," Mr. Itch sneered, and Brain hated that cocky, self-assured expression that put even the best car salesman in the world to shame. Mr. Itch waved his hand, and a sick, twisted parody of a game show appeared behind him. "You can walk away now and rule the world…or you can risk it all and try to get Pinky back."

Brain's vision blurred as he was forcibly thrust onto a tall podium. A spotlight illuminated him, and the demons clamored for his choice.

A tall demoness cheerfully indicated two panels to the studio audience of hell's denizens. One depicted Brain on top of the world in royal regalia. He could have power to change the world. Admiration from the populace. Endless wealth so they could have the finest things life had to offer.

But the other panel was a portrait of Pinky. Just a misleading, goofy portrait of a smiling Pinky that belied the high stakes of Brain's contract.

He was chafing under the spotlight. But why? He was king, he was emperor, with everyone at his beck and call! He shouldn't be afraid of a little spotlight!

Except he wasn't any of those things here. Just a mouse who'd failed to notice his associate signing his own soul away.

The demons clamored. Brain gripped the podium, vulnerable and ripe for humiliation, for several…seconds? Minutes? Hours?

His voice wasn't working. He needed his voice, didn't he? But he could only stammer like a fool. Perspiration built on his fur, and he nearly slipped off the podium, his palms damp and clammy. He didn't know if it was the heat or the anxiety, but everyone was waiting for his choice.

" _Save Pinky!"_

" _No, the world!"_

" _Go for cash!"_

The demons jeered in a harsh, guttural cacophony. Brain was sure he would've been covered in fresh produce and popcorn if they'd had any available. Anything to amplify his current indignity.

He wanted Pinky. He wanted the world. He couldn't have both.

But in the end, there was hardly a choice at all.

Ruling the world without Pinky by his side wasn't worth the castle, the riches, the statues. Institutes of higher learning named in his honor, policies with his seal of approval, ethical practices in scientific fields to enforce…but what good were they to him?

His castle would just be a gilded cage. Sparkling and clean and mighty for all his subjects to behold from afar, but its interior would only contain a gloomy king without an associate, a confidant…

And a kindred spirit.

All or nothing. He had to try. Who knows? Pinky might've done the same for him.

"I'll try to save Pinky!" Brain shouted, forcing the words past his throat and into the unforgiving outside world.

He wasn't prepared for Pinky to spring onto the podium. That mindless simpleton was grinning from ear to ear like he was just being called to the stage in The Price is Right! Didn't Pinky realize his soul was in peril?

"Oh, Brain! My hero!" Pinky snatched Brain up in an enthusiastic hug. Brain stiffened and tried not to think about the hand currently rubbing his head, and how he would never feel it again if he failed his quest.

They were also surrounded by an unfriendly sort. They would believe this saccharine display was a weakness if Brain allowed Pinky to indulge these childish needs.

He shoved Pinky off, holding him at arm's length for a moment so Pinky would take the hint.

"…so he can show me where the food pellets are," Brain added hastily.

That was all Pinky was needed for.

To show him where the necessities laid.

A hellish fanfare played, saving Brain pondering those terrifying thoughts.

An enormous fiery plume burst onto the stage, then dissipated to reveal Mr. Itch. He conjured a microphone and bowed heartily at the thunderous applause.

"Ladies and demons, we have something very special for your entertainment on this fantastic Halloween night. I trust you're aware of our newest resident and his…well, can I even call him a friend? He didn't lift a finger to stop me when I claimed Pinky."

Brain stared down at his hands to avoid the harsh, mocking glares. This was just the opening act. Mr. Itch was hyping up the crowd for Brain's ultimate failure.

Mr. Itch strolled around the stage, each movement radiating confidence of a self-assured victory. "Yes, he enjoys having that ultimate power. A glorious statue, his rival in the race for world domination now a lowly jester in court, his name praised on every street corner! Isn't that a dream come true? And yet...he chose to come into my realm and make demands. Like the world wasn't enough for him."

Because Pinky wasn't there to make the world enough.

A hiss of smoke sprung up by Brain's foot. He bit his tongue, wondering if part of the challenge was running on hot coals or avoiding random ember spurts. At this point, it seemed very likely. His feet probably wouldn't survive the night.

In the unlikely scenario that the rest of his body survived of course.

And something wet landed on his toe. Wet? There wasn't anything wet about hell, unless one counted the boiling lakes. But it evaporated into steam before he could fully process the cool reprieve.

Then he heard it.

A whimper.

From Pinky.

A tear trailed down Pinky's cheek.

"Pinky?" Brain asked quietly, trying to keep his eyes trained on Mr. Itch, who was currently recapping the tale of Brain's disastrous attempt at Broadway to the raucous audience. Not one of Brain's finest moments, but he couldn't dwell on that now. Better for them to laugh over what was past and done, rather than drawing their attention here.

Pinky clutched his tail in a death grip. Steam leaked under his eyes and around his cheeks, his entire face damp with tears.

"He's saying awful things."

Even with their proximity, Brain had to strain his ears to hear Pinky's voice.

"Don't bawl, Pinky," Brain whispered, hoping by some off-chance that the verbal comfort would be enough. "Don't cry. Not here. Not now. Don't…don't be foolish."

He didn't know if the reassurance was meant for Pinky or himself. With a trembling hand, Brain reached for Pinky's back, shuffling closer to make the motion less conspicuous.

But Pinky moved away before Brain could touch him.

"They have to know, Brain," Pinky said. His voice was far too calm. "I can't let him tell those awful lies about you."

Pinky tried to balance on the edge of the podium, but Brain grabbed him by the tail and hauled him off. But Pinky was stubborn, and he tried again.

"Let him talk, you idiot!" Brain yelled, grabbing Pinky's tail to knock him off-balance and buy some much needed time before Pinky foolishly tried again, oddly glad that Mr. Itch was enough of a showman to keep the attention away from them.

But Pinky's huge pain threshold allowed him to recover far quicker than Brain would've liked. "Brain, let go of my tail!" Pinky shouted, trying to sweep his tail into a huge arc to dislodge Brain.

"Not until you do as you're told, for once in your life!" Brain retorted, grasping the wriggling tail. He wouldn't relinquish it.

Pinky was slippery though, and in one swift motion, he freed himself from Brain's grip. Realizing he needed a more secure hold, Brain threw himself at Pinky's right arm. Suddenly, the arm blurred, and Brain couldn't stop his forward momentum in time. A sharp pain erupted on the side of his head and knocked him against a corner, his face throbbing painfully.

Through his daze, Brain pressed a hand against his cheek and winced at the tenderness. Hopefully it didn't swell. Ice packs weren't exactly a common item in this hostile environment.

Then he saw Pinky.

And Pinky was absolutely distraught. Smoke poured out his eyes at a more alarming rate than before. His blue eyes were tinged red. Pinky clutched his elbow with his other arm, squeezing as hard as he could to admonish it.

But it wasn't necessary.

A microphone was thrust into Pinky's face before Brain could tell him so.

"How could I forget our little stars of the show?" Mr. Itch asked, a sadistic grin stretching from ear to ear. "That was quite a scuffle there, Pinky. Can't say I blame you. Revenge for all the times Brain's bopped you on the head and insulted you?"

Pinky wiped his eyes in a pitiful attempt to get some semblance of dignity back as the demonic crew trained all their lights and cameras on him.

"N-no..." Pinky said weakly. "I mean, he can say mean things sometimes, but the bops-"

Mr. Itch shook his head in a show of mock sympathy. "Your _friend_ -" he curled his lip as if the word itself was cyanide "-called you a speckless nougat just before you signed my contract. He'll take everything and give nothing. He'll send you away only to ask for your services again because he can't do the manual labor on his own. You're a talented little guy, aren't you? You've showed the moxie and the know-how to become a Broadway star or president of the good old USA. And instead of putting those gifts to use, you've been rotting inside a cage with a failure who leeches on your success."

_Failure._

One of the cameras trained its unforgiving lens on Brain. He shook away the remaining dizziness and stood up to get some semblance of dignity back. The demons booed and heckled him, but he tried to lift his head in defiance.

He wasn't a failure. He ruled the world! His word was law, his brilliance unparalleled!

He had it all-

-only because Pinky sacrificed his soul for him. Pinky had taken drastic measures to prove himself when there had been nothing to prove, because Brain made Pinky believe he had to prove his usefulness.

He'd gained the world yet lost Pinky. It was failure.

Which meant he-

"Stop it," Pinky begged. Brain's thoughts came to a screeching halt, and he stepped away from Pinky before reminding himself that he was being illogical. Pinky didn't have telepathy. He couldn't have heard all that. But Pinky was glaring up at Mr. Itch with a ferocity Brain had never seen before.

In the span of a single night, Brain's entire world had been shaken to its roots.

Mr. Itch raised an eyebrow. "Stop what?" he asked, placing his free hand on his chest like he'd been genuinely offended.

"Stop it! STOP CALLING BRAIN ALL THOSE NASTY MEAN HORRIBLE THINGS RIGHT NOW!" Pinky's voice rose into a fevered pitch, his fur bristling along his spine.

This was wrong. This was so very wrong. Pinky wasn't supposed to be the angry one.

Before Brain could stop him, Pinky leapt off the podium and landed on the microphone to the 'oohs' and 'ahhs' of the lesser demons, and even Mr. Itch seemed too stunned by the maneuver to shake Pinky off.

"Pinky, cease immediately!" Brain yelled once he managed to find his voice. "You're being reckless!"

"I HAVE PLENTY OF RECKS, BRAIN!" Pinky screamed, tightly clinging to the microphone even though Mr. Itch was attempting to pry him off. "CAUSE YOU'RE NOT A FAILURE OR A LEECH! YOU'RE A MOUSE!"

A comforting warmth spread through Brain's chest at the affirmation, but he pushed those feelings aside. Pinky's words meant nothing if Brain didn't succeed with this rescue.

The audience was deathly quiet.

"Yes, Pinky," Mr. Itch growled, trying to slip a finger under Pinky to dislodge him. But Pinky held on. "Let your friend talk. Let the cameras capture his selfishness. After all, his presence here just means he wasn't grateful for your gift. That he wasn't happy with your gift. As I said before, all he does is take, take, and take some more. What's he ever done for you in return?"

But Brain had been grateful. For a short time anyway.

Until he realized his gratitude came from Pinky's sacrifice. All of Pinky's sacrifices that involved no benefit to himself.

Pinky mumbled something that had much of the audience leaning in eagerly, trying to hang onto every word.

Mr. Itch shrugged. "Well, if you have nothing else to say, then-"

But Pinky hauled himself on top of the microphone, clinging to it like a lifeline.

"Brain gave me my name! He gave me a chance to see the world! He gave me a chance to do things I never dreamed of doing before! I wouldn't have met Pharfignewton otherwise! Or Winnie or Mr. Sultana or any of the other lovely people we met while trying to take over the world! Maybe Brain can be big-headed and a grump but he works super hard and he's going to make the world a better place to live! And most importantly, he's my best friend and nothing you say will ever change that!"

"Pinky…" Brain's throat closed uncomfortably. It had to be the oppressive, stagnant air. What could he possibly say to Pinky's emphatic speech?

Even the demons were moved. Some embraced their neighbors, others made sympathetic noises. There were a few who sat with their heads pressed against their knees in a futile attempt to staunch their tears.

He'd never been more grateful for Pinky's charisma.

Mr. Itch took notice of his followers' reactions. A vein seemed to pop in his head, his once casual, lazy posture now stiff and alert.

"Brain only kept you around because you were useful." A dangerous edge crept into Mr. Itch's tone. "That's all there was to your so-called friendship."

"NARF!" Pinky screeched in defiance.

It sounded all wrong. Fury and fear laced that familiar, irritating monosyllable. Brain didn't know what narf meant, and he probably never would, but he was certain that narf wasn't meant to be uttered in such a fashion.

"Narf!" a demon called.

Another demon stood up and pumped his fist. "Poit!"

"Troz! Egad! Narf! Zort!" The demons chanted Pinky's favorite syllables like the world's most demented cheering squad.

An inferno burned in Mr. Itch's eyes.

" _ **SILENCE!"**_

Mr. Itch's snarl deepened into a guttural and unearthly roar, the entire netherworld quaking in outrage. The lesser demons hastily vacated their seats and cowered behind each other, large boulders, or whatever makeshift shields they could find.

The microphone and a tiny white body were hurled into the empty audience box, crashing into the metallic structure with enough force to leave an enormous dent.

There was no tic-filled laughter to accompany the harsh clang of his body impacting metal.

"PINKY!" Brain screamed, not caring that he tumbled more than climbed down the podium. He landed right on his throbbing cheek and got a mouthful of hot crimson dust for his trouble, but he couldn't care less.

The physical tortures were just going to build up until Pinky's body couldn't handle it anymore. It didn't matter that Pinky had a near-immunity to pain. Pinky's body would break and he would never notice.

Brain spat out the dust and hurried over to Pinky, who feebly stirred next to the microphone.

Mr. Itch loomed above them, an ember casually lit on his finger. "You know what? That's perfect," he chuckled, and it was utterly devoid of good humor. "Absolute silence."

Brain knelt on the hard ground next to Pinky, who only blinked up at him with those too-trusting blue eyes. Pinky raised a shaking hand, cupping it against the cheek he'd accidentally hurt.

"I've sustained worse injuries," Brain said quietly. Despite the heat, he shivered at the touch. He wished Pinky wouldn't comfort him. He didn't deserve it. "You know that."

Pinky opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

"Speak up, Pinky." Brain tried to sound commanding, but his voice hitched instead. He couldn't even keep up a thin illusion of normalcy.

Pinky tried again, but Brain still couldn't hear him. Not even a cough or a wheeze from smoke inhalation. He wasn't choking or flailing. There couldn't be something lodged in his throat.

"He can't speak, Brain," Mr. Itch said. "He's been silenced per our little agreement."

_Silenced?_

Brain snatched the wrist gently cradling his cheek and felt for a pulse, and he couldn't disguise his relieved sigh once he found it.

"C'mon, just what do you take me for? It's not a euphemism. Takes all the fun outta the contract."

"Just say narf, Pinky," Brain pleaded as he shook Pinky's shoulder, as if pleading in hell would accomplish anything useful. "Please say narf. Can't you do that much?"

Pinky mouthed the syllable to no avail. He became teary all over again, his free hand feeling his throat as if trying to coax the narf out. His foot kicked out, yet it made no thump against the crimson rocks.

The demons murmured among themselves, and though they appeared sympathetic to Pinky's plight, they were too frightened of their master to come any closer.

It was just as well. Brain didn't want anyone to touch Pinky.

Brain tried to glare at Mr. Itch, but a mouse could never hope to be intimidating against a sadistic supernatural being.

"Don't give me that look," Mr. Itch scoffed. "The fine print of our contract lets me set the condition of the challenge. Pinky's silence is my first condition. If anything, I'm doing you a favor. Awful noisy thing, isn't he? No wonder you weren't inclined to get back him back right away."

Had this been a different situation entirely, Brain might've found it relieving that Pinky would have to be quiet for a while.

Cruel irony at its finest.

Pinky touched his nose against Brain's own, and Brain tried not to think of how Pinky could comfort as easily with a touch as with words. Surely Pinky was just using tactile stimulation for his own peace of mind rather than Brain's.

"And now for my second condition," Mr. Itch smirked. He snapped his fingers, the sharp echo promising cruelty yet to come.

The gentle pressure of Pinky's nose vanished, the feel of his wrist and shoulder gone. The whites, pinks, and reds of his body were now colorless, lifeless. His bright blue eyes faded into a pale, ghostly void. No pupils, no irises…just empty.

Brain tried to put a hand over Pinky's heart, desperately wishing for the steady thrum he was so accustomed to. Yet his hand passed through Pinky's chest like mist. It was neither cold nor hot, simply that there was nothing to feel.

Pinky reached for Brain's face, looking at him with that strange, milky gaze. But his hand passed through the cheek he'd accidentally hurt, and Pinky's chest heaved rapidly. He tried to grab his tail, as he always did when he was truly upset, but couldn't.

No tears came out. Just several silent sobs.

Pinky was just a silent, sorrowful ghost of his former self. The loudest and happiest mouse Brain had ever known was reduced to this shadow, trapped within his mind, unable to engage with the world around him.

It was a horrible, undeserved fate for such a kindhearted mouse. There would be no release, not even from death, if Brain failed his challenge.

He had no choice but to win.

And even that was practically impossible.

"Pinky, I'm sorry…" The words tumbled out of Brain's mouth before he could think of anything else to say.

Why wouldn't his mind just work? I'm sorry? Like he'd done nothing more than eat the last food pellet? Sorry didn't even begin to cut it!

Pinky floated instead of standing, feet skimming just above the ground. He gave Brain a tiny, reassuring smile. Of course he'd find something to smile about in his non-existent state. It probably should've annoyed Brain, but it was rather comforting to know that Pinky would always be Pinky.

Even so, the smile faded just as quickly as it came. Pinky couldn't properly express his joy with narfs and poits and enormous embraces.

Then a fingersnap above his head reminded him of Mr. Itch's presence.

"We've got business to discuss, Brain," Mr. Itch said as he straightened his lapels. "You should know what your challenge consists of."

In other words, Brain's humiliation had hardly begun. But he'd do it. For Pinky's sake.

Brain tried to hold his head high and show hell that he wasn't afraid to defy their evil laws, but he couldn't even find the strength to bring his ears up.

Another snap, and the microphone soared back to Mr. Itch. He twirled it with a showman's flair and gestured for the audience to take their seats. The lesser demons obeyed, murmuring among themselves and pointing at the spectral Pinky. They didn't seem pleased by Pinky's complete silence.

"Ladies and demons, think of Brain's challenge as an adaptation of an old Greek story," Mr. Itch announced. "And I ain't just talking about a watered-down Heracles here. No, this story isn't about heroes slaying monsters. Rather, it's a tragedy. The Greeks were masters of that particular craft, you see. A man goes on a quest, yet his fatal flaw always strikes him down in the end. I trust you're quite familiar with the concept, Brain?"

Brain said nothing. No need to give them ammunition.

His temper and pride were the source of many failures. But there was nothing he could do except commit the same errors over and over again.

He should've known. It was only a matter of time before the ones he…tolerated suffered the consequences.

As if sensing his thoughts, Pinky wrapped his spectral arms around Brain's shoulders. He couldn't feel the saccharine display, and that fact pained him more than he cared to admit.

"Ever heard of cooperation?" Mr. Itch sighed. "You have the starring role in the show tonight. Give us something to work with, at least."

Brain gritted his teeth. He'd had enough of this delay. "I'm through with this prolonged torture! Just get it over with already!" he shouted. "I refuse to be paraded around like a sideshow attraction!"

"Touchy," Mr. Itch huffed in disdain. He turned back to the audience. "But I digress. Now, this tragedy involves a man who ventured into the depths of the underworld to retrieve his closest companion. He placated everyone with his music, including Hades himself. And because Hades was a total sap, he allowed the man to lead his companion back to the surface world."

His arm swept out and a large stone staircase appeared. It spiraled and arched far above their heads, and Brain caught a glimpse of a starry sky hidden among the crimson stone.

Pinky belonged in the surface world, where the grass and horses and inanimate objects he had yet to befriend waited. And he was relying on Brain to bring him there.

Perhaps it was silly to reach for arms he couldn't feel, but Brain placed his hands atop where Pinky's fur should've been. He couldn't remember the last time he'd voluntarily touched Pinky without hurting him.

Something to rectify if they made it through this trial.

"And that brings me to the final condition." Before Brain could react, darkness engulfed his vision as he was plucked up into the air, his head squeezed by an unforgiving, burning hand. Brain bit the skin like it was just another day of rough handling by some careless scientist, but a fiery pain flooded his throat and he released the hand immediately. It felt like magma had crammed its way into his esophagus, and there was no lifegiving water to relieve him.

Then he was roughly deposited at the base of the stairs.

Brain tried to turn around, but Mr. Itch forced him to stare at the first brimstone step instead. The steps were several inches taller than him, though he could still reach the next step if he jumped high enough.

"Ah, ah, ah," Mr. Itch scolded. "I wouldn't do that if I were a pathetic mortal like you. In this little tale, Hades told the man he couldn't look at his companion until they were both in the land of the living, lest she be lost to the underworld forever. For your challenge, I'll be invoking that same clause."

Brain resisted the urge to bite that supernatural conman's fingers off. He would only wind up damaging his throat.

"I can hardly expect Pinky to follow me in the presence of distractors!" Brain protested. "He's liable to find a stalactite interesting, or collect rocks, or do anything else other than-"

Mr. Itch only cackled, pillars of lava erupting alongside his cruelty.

And Brain remembered why the story was known as a tragedy.

The man looked at his companion just as they reached the surface world. Her soul was forever lost among the dead. Though he tried to reclaim her, the underworld wouldn't release her again. And he spent the rest of his life mourning her loss.

Hell expected a faithful adaptation. They knew Brain would inevitably lose his temper and forget that he couldn't look. They knew they'd be able to keep Pinky forever.

They knew.

Yet they put on this charade anyway.

Because false hope was the cruelest lie of all.

"Your challenge begins, Brain," Mr. Itch declared, and the wicked fingers slowly released Brain's head. "And remember, no looking at Pinky until you're both in the surface world. But that's a moot point, ain't it? You're bound to forget soon enough. At least try to go for most of the length before your undeniable failure, okay? We wouldn't want the show to end too soon."

Mr. Itch vanished in a puff of smoke.

 _Undeniable failure_.

"I am not a failure," Brain snarled to himself, more out of habit than belief. But his petulance at the phrase enabled him to climb five steps without pausing for breath.

And he didn't require Pinky to boost him up! He climbed five steps by himself!

But that thought was banished as he climbed the sixth step. Pinky couldn't physically boost him, nor provide mental fortitude. The adrenaline rush wore off quickly, and Brain's feet dangled in the air as he tried to find a grip on the rocky outcropping. But he managed, albeit with difficulty. On the count of three, Brain heaved himself over the ledge.

He laid on the hot stone to catch his breath, face tucked under his hands so he wouldn't see Pinky.

No words of encouragement. No strange tics. Nothing except the roar of lava, mockery, and his darkening thoughts.

Funny how one didn't appreciate what they had until it disappeared. Pinky always lifted Brain, boosting him to higher places he couldn't reach alone. It was something he'd always done, and Brain had let it slide out of practicality. Just treat the action like a living, portable stepstool. It was far better than expending more energy than required during plans.

In hindsight, would it have killed him to say thank you? Or at least nod in gratitude?

There was no time limit, but Brain stood up and dusted himself off, though the crimson dust would just attach itself to his fur all over again within seconds. It was impossible to shake off, and Brain wondered if he would ever be able to fully cleanse himself of it.

Taking a deep breath, Brain reached for a handhold above his head and hauled himself up.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot again. One more repetition. Start all over for the next stairstep.

It was a rhythm. Rhythms weren't full of what-ifs or what could've beens. Concentrate on the rhythm. Nothing else mattered.

He had to keep moving. Keep climbing. It was better than sitting there and doing nothing. He couldn't rest. He wouldn't.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

Brain's throat burned. His fur was slick with perspiration, though it only served as a method to lose precious water instead of cooling him off. His limbs trembled, and it was difficult to keep hold of the unforgiving stone.

But he'd only completed the first two spirals! There were still several more tiers left, and the starry sky seemed much further away than before.

"Pinky, if…if we make it out of here-"

Brain shuddered as he laid down to rest. His voice was raspy from the fumes and thirst, but he had to keep talking. Had to say something. Maybe Pinky would listen, maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he wasn't even in earshot.

"-if you want to leave…"

He trailed off, rubbing away teardrops that quickly evaporated into smoke. His chest ached, but he couldn't say for certain that it caused by physical labor.

Brain couldn't make an attempt at global conquest even if he succeeded. Pinky's help would no longer be necessary.

Between the two of them, Pinky knew how to live. He knew how to talk to people, how to have fun, how to narf through his pathetic lot in life with a smile on his face.

Brain only knew survival. Maybe it was his former field mouse instincts that somehow bled into intellect. Maybe his primitive instincts weren't as gone as he'd like to believe.

He would never be anything else but a lowly test subject. If someone decided to euthanize or feed him to a snake one day…well, it hardly mattered in the grand scheme of things. Another mouse would take his place. And when that mouse died, it would be replaced again. And the progress would continue in the name of scientific progress.

Dying for science.

Yes, that's how he'd meet his end.

But Pinky's kindred spirit would touch others. Whether it was through an executive office, the lead role on Broadway, or even just helping a stranger on the street, he could do so many good things for the world around him.

The world would love Pinky back.

And if a solitary mouse in a lonely lab happened to turn on the TV and see his former associate surrounded by an adoring crowd, he would be happy to see the world has changed for the better.

So he had to keep going.

He had to try. Try to bring Pinky back to the surface world…and let him go. He shouldn't keep anything he didn't earn.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

The halfway point now.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

He miscalculated the distance to the top of the next step and reached too far. He lost his footing and plummeted several inches. Growling under his breath, Brain punched the unfeeling stone, though it only bruised his knuckles instead of making him feel better. Then he tried again.

And again. And again.

He couldn't grasp these handholds! There was no logical reason why. They were approximately the same size and shape as all the other outcroppings! It shouldn't be this difficult!

"Pinky, where are you when I need you? Cease your nonsense at once and help me!" Brain screamed, clutching the stone and closing his eyes so he wouldn't see Pinky. Eight tries. Nine tries and counting. Why couldn't he do something as simple as this?

But Pinky couldn't help. It was useless to ask.

_What's the matter? Can't manage a simple task on your own?_

"Of course I can!" Brain snarled, and he gripped an outcropping so tightly that it broke off in his hand. He hurled the useless pebble into the abyss below, then found a different handhold and successfully hauled him to the next step out of sheer spite towards that nagging, insistent voice.

_How do you know Pinky's following you? How do you know he's not enjoying his newfound flight capabilities?_

He didn't know. Pinky smiled when he discovered he could float as nothing more than a ghost, it was true, but the smile hadn't reached his eyes. Pinky was incapable of deception. Even without speaking, the intention had been clear. Pinky only wanted to comfort Brain.

That Pinky could learn to live a life of nonexistence. That somehow Pinky would adapt to no touch, no words, no rest in hell.

If only those blank eyes had been more accusatory. It would've been far easier to deal with.

Pinky shouldn't adapt to this. He couldn't.

But he might-

No. Brain had to try. He had to try and not fail.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

The ground quaked beneath his feet, and Brain clung to the crimson ledge he rested on. He wouldn't put it past hell to throw him to the bottom and negate all his efforts.

Still, he pressed on.

The sky was closer now. Several autumn leaves were blown along the wind.

_Are you sure Pinky's behind you?_

Three spirals left. Almost there. They were almost there.

Failure would come soon. He was sure of it.

He didn't know much time had passed in the world beyond. Was it November already? Was it time for the world to replace the witches and skulls with turkeys and wreaths?

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

The navy sky was filled with countless twinkling stars. Lights from a faraway airplane blinked steadily as it flew into the horizon. Ever closer, ever brighter.

"Do you see that, Pinky?" Brain whispered. For once, the stars gave him no existentialist dread. A feeling he dared describe as hope filled his chest and strengthened his limbs. All fears were banished to the recesses of his mind. He climbed with renewed purpose, not pausing for breath. "Just a little farther. We're almost there. Stay behind me, Pinky. Just stay behind me."

_He's not behind you._

"Yes, he is," Brain retorted.

This was important. Pinky always came through in matters of importance.

_Always is so absolute. You know those statements are usually false, right?_

The ground rumbled, accompanied by a distant outraged roar, but Brain paid no heed to it. He ignored his doubts, he ignored the roars, he ignored everything but the starry expanse above and the rocks beneath his hand.

Hand. Foot. Hand. Foot.

He could do this. One more ledge. One more handhold. One more foothold.

The sky was so inviting, so beautiful…

Brain gripped the last ledge. He was filthy with dust and sweat, but he couldn't care less. He was almost there.

Pinky was almost home. Pinky would be able to feel again.

And he would leave. But that was alright. Pinky wouldn't suffer in hell on Brain's account. That's all that really mattered.

He hauled himself onto the last ledge…

…but he didn't see the pitchfork's hilt in time.

An agonizing pain shot through his body as he lost his grip and plummeted to the previous step. His back slammed against the hot stone. A searing pressure in the center of his forehead kept him pinned. He gasped for air, his dry throat throbbing.

An enormous crimson devil blotted out the night sky, and Brain's fragile hope ripped away from his heart. The Devil's eyes burned like lava as he glared hatefully at Brain, digging the pitchfork ever so slightly into his head.

It wouldn't take much force to crush or melt his skull, whatever the Devil fancied.

" _ **I OFFERED YOU CHANCE AFTER CHANCE TO WALK AWAY WITH THE WORLD. BUT YOU STOLE WHAT RIGHTFULLY BELONGS TO ME. YOUR PUNISHMENT SHALL BE DEATH."**_

The silky, snake-oil voice was gone, replaced by the full power of a supernatural entity. What was a mortal, pathetic rodent compared to the Master of Hell himself?

He was going to die. He'd failed to save his friend. His only friend.

If his soul was trapped in hell forever…if he had to suffer for all eternity, he deserved it. For his selfishness. For his callousness. For his failure.

"Please don't hate me, Pinky…please don't…" Brain choked out. He didn't know where Pinky was. But if Pinky was watching, or listening, he could only ask that Pinky wouldn't hate him.

He lay there, his determination gone, his lonely demise imminent.

" _Narf! Zort! Poit! Troz!"_

And the pressure vanished.

" _Narf! Zort! Poit! Troz!"_

A cacophony of Pinky's favorite syllables sounded again and again and again. Though Pinky's voice wasn't among them, Brain still heard that oddly wonderful Cockney accent loud and clear.

" _ **NO! PINKY IS MY PROPERTY!"**_

The Devil roared as dozens of lesser demons swarmed him, the pitchfork swinging wildly at anyone who dared to oppose his reign. Something screamed at Brain to find cover before he was caught in the power struggle too, but his body refused to obey any rational thoughts.

Several demons ripped the enormous pitchfork away from their master, and the weapon crashed into a wall and spiraled into the depths below. Other demons screeched and clawed at every part of the Devil they could reach. The Devil swatted one pig-snouted demon slashing away at a shoulder, and he flew over Brain and tumbled down the stairs, grunts of pain echoing off the walls.

Immediately, his nearest allies howled in fury and attacked with more vigor than before. They chomped on cloven hooves, they fended off every swipe, and shouted warnings to their comrades before the Devil's wrath could reach them.

No longer was self-preservation their only concern. They were a united force now, one the Devil himself had underestimated severely.

With one final shove, the Devil toppled over the edge. The ground rumbled at his furious roar, which quickly decreased in volume as he fell into the abyss.

Brain's heart pounded, but the Devil didn't resurface. A resounding cheer went up from the demons, then two of them rushed past Brain, presumably to check on their downed ally.

The remaining demons watched Brain closely. He flinched under attention he didn't want. He just wanted to leave this horrible place. Then he realized they weren't exactly looking at him, but rather somewhere just above his head.

" _Narf!"_ the demons shouted, hands raised to their foreheads in a salute.

There was only one explanation behind the sudden camaraderie.

_Pinky._

Pinky had been helping him all this time. Somehow, he'd influenced selfish demons to unite against their cruel master and protect each other from serious injury. Somehow, he'd found a way to say narf despite his voiceless state.

Somehow, Pinky still wanted to save Brain, even after all he'd done.

"Thank you, Pinky," Brain said softly.

He didn't need to question Pinky's presence any longer.

A cool, fresh breeze blew over Brain's fur as he climbed the last step. The starry sky was clear once again. It was a nice view.

The demons stood aside to allow them safe passage. He kept an eye out for any hostility, but other than their natural weapons, there was none to be found. Whether it was out of respect for the trial he and Pinky had endured, or if they were just an unpredictable force and Pinky's presence somehow warded them off, he didn't know.

Brain stepped onto the cool asphalt of the DMV parking lot, and had this been a different circumstance entirely, he might've found it rather ironic that one would be glad to set their sights on a DMV. He shivered from the temperature difference, the chilly autumn air contrasting heavily from the sweltering inferno.

Pinky's contract shimmered into existence , and Brain's own agreement followed within seconds. Someone had stamped 'VOID' in red capital letters across the top page of both contracts, and fire blazed across the crimson ink and engulfed the papers entirely. The ash and smoke left behind were swiftly carried off by the night wind.

Just like that, their contracts were gone.

In his relief, Brain turned to face Pinky to properly share their victory.

_IDIOT! If you turn around, Pinky will be claimed by the Devil. Your entire challenge would be for nothing!_

And Brain's foot stopped mid-turn.

The realization struck harshly.

He didn't truly know if the Devil had a claim over Pinky's soul. The lesser demons only bought them time to escape hell. Brain doubted they'd be able to hold their master back forever, even as a united front. But if the Devil came back, what then? Two lab mice couldn't hope for a permanent victory against a powerful, malicious entity.

There was only one solution.

Brain could never look at Pinky again.

He didn't trust himself to not slip up. Sooner or later, he'd forget that he couldn't look. And Pinky would be gone again. Brain's efforts would be in vain.

Hell wouldn't be so accommodating the second time.

"Narf! Brain, I can say narf again!" a familiar voice exclaimed behind him.

Brain's ears perked without any conscious input, but it was a minor loss of control in comparison to everything else he'd endured tonight.

He heard the clatter of pebbles and a swish of fallen leaves alongside a gentle tap of dancing feet against the asphalt. Pinky could interact with the environment again. He could dance and speak and produce all the noises he wanted. It was a small consolation, at least. The contract never said anything about never being able to hear Pinky again.

"Brain?" Pinky asked again. "Are you alright?"

Brain forced himself to stare at a white line that marked a parking space instead.

 _Don't look_ , he chanted. _You mustn't look._

A featherlight touch landed on his shoulder, a gentle warmth not quite touching his back, but just close enough for him to feel its presence.

Brain hastily pulled away. He hated this feeling of helplessness, of being unable to function without physical reassurance. But he couldn't accept Pinky's touch either. It would just lead to further loss of control over his emotions, and he'd forget that he couldn't look.

Pinky would have to leave ACME Labs and Brain forever. He would probably find it difficult at first, but he'd adapt. That's just what he did.

Brain's entire body ached. He just wanted to wash away the fire and brimstone, tend to his injuries, and sleep. It didn't matter what he wanted to do after that. Even if he ignored the contract's terms and tried to conquer the world again, it would never be the same.

He set off for the lab. Pinky followed, as always.

Maybe it was a selfish risk to not send Pinky away at this very moment, but he was grateful that Pinky would accompany him for one last after-failure trek.

o-o-o-o-o

He'd completely forgotten about his very brief stint as emperor. The only reminder from that timeframe was Snowball, who'd exchanged his jester cap and bells for the royal crown as soon as Brain abandoned his post to rescue Pinky.

ACME was no longer a mighty castle, but just another underfunded lab. Nobody chanted his name, called for their problems to be solved, or held signs that proclaimed Brain as their ruler. His statue had long vanished.

He didn't want to see loyal subjects, enormous wealth, and undisputed power tonight. He wasn't sure if he'd ever want them again.

Right now, he was just Brain, an exhausted, downtrodden lab mouse who would have to try to live without his only friend.

On the way back, Pinky had chattered about anything and everything, prattling on about cheese flavors, then about an inflatable reindeer someone had put up a month early, and finally to paint swatches so their section of the lab would be, according to him, 'happy and go-lucky and livelier than a herd of hippopotamuses!'.

Brain said nothing. He just let Pinky talk. This might be the last time he'd ever hear that silly voice again.

"Maybe we could get some feng shui going, just like on HGTV! Zort!" Pinky said, and Brain could just imagine him scratching his head in a vain attempt to get any thoughts going. "Wait, no…we should paint radish roses on the walls! And make them with our radish rose whatchamawhozits! Twice the garnishes for our dinner parties! What color swatch should they be though? Raspberry rose? Rosemary? Oh, we should get one with a funny name! What do you think, Brai-oh, hey Snowball! Haven't seen you in a while."

Snowball scowled, stalking over to Brain and casting a contemptuous glare at Pinky. The loss of the hamster's usurped power was still fresh in his twisted mind.

"My statue is gone thanks to whatever you did!" Snowball jabbed a finger into Brain's chest. But Brain barely felt it. He didn't feel anything towards Snowball at the moment. Not betrayal, not hatred, not even bittersweet nostalgia.

Brain only wanted rest.

"You should've stayed in hell," Snowball growled. "He promised he'd keep you there."

Brain placed his hand over Snowball's finger, but he didn't have the strength to push it away. The hamster raised an eyebrow at the lack of resistance.

"And he kept that promise, Snowball," Brain said quietly. "Perhaps not in the way you expected, but he kept it."

Snowball scoffed. He wasn't convinced in the slightest.

The laboratory doors were wide open. It was a small consolation that he wouldn't have to go through the mail slot.

"But…our contracts went up in smoke, Brain. Literally." Pinky's voice quivered. "And we're on the lab's doorstep too."

It was time to break the news. Maybe he shouldn't prolong the goodbye, but Pinky needed time to clean himself and pack his belongings.

"I wish to speak with Pinky. Leave, Snowball."

"Fine," Snowball spat, shoving past Brain. "I'll talk to that blasted devil myself. Even his lawyers will have a difficult time against an entire corporation's legal team."

Once he was gone, Brain gestured for Pinky to follow him inside. The interior no longer held a throne, red carpet, or a golden wheel. Just their cage, several counters, and standard laboratory equipment.

Pinky made a valiant effort to hold his tears back, though he couldn't completely stop all the whimpers from escaping. "P-poit. Nothing good ever comes out of wanting to talk," he chuckled weakly.

"No, I suppose not," Brain said. He gripped the side of a bottom drawer to give his hands something to do. His hands were scraped raw from climbing, though he relished the sting. Stings were only a small pain. He could handle small pain. More importantly, he couldn't turn around, not even to see Pinky off for a proper goodbye.

 _You have to leave now. Thank you for everything. Goodbye, Pinky,_ his mind supplied.

It wasn't enough. Whether it was one word or a million, they would never properly express everything he never said. What was he supposed to say to Pinky, who gave his soul away for Brain and never asked for anything in return?

"Brain, are you mad cause I didn't help you?" Pinky asked. "Is that what this is about? Cause…I wanted to. I tried to push you up the steps, but I couldn't feel you…and I tried shouting and cheering and yelling too! I…I don't think you heard me. I'm sorry for being useless, Brain. You struggled so hard for me, and I was just useless!"

When Mr. Itch imposed his horrible terms, Pinky tried to cheer up Brain. Even when Brain had doubted, Pinky had been by his side. And he'd somehow inspired the demons to come to their aid.

That wasn't useless. Not at all.

Even if Pinky hadn't done all those things, Brain wouldn't have held it against him. His anger was directed entirely towards the Devil himself.

"You're not useless, Pinky," Brain admitted. "I never should've implied it before this entire mess started. I'm sorry."

There was silence for a while, only broken by the tap of Pinky's feet on the tiles.

"Okay, I forgive you," Pinky said. There were no strings attached. It always took Brain by surprise, how there were no additional requirements for Pinky's forgiveness. "How come you won't face me, Brain? I wanna see you."

Brain took a deep breath. Best to get it out of the way. Get it done.

He couldn't say done and over with. There was no over. He would never be the same without Pinky.

"I can't see you, Pinky. I can't look at you. Ever again. " Brain pressed his head to the drawer, fighting the urge to turn around. "Don't come any closer. You'll just…it'll make it harder on both of us."

But Pinky's footsteps drew closer. Of course they would.

"Make what harder?" Pinky echoed.

A warm hand fell on Brain's shoulder, so different from blazing fire and cold wind, and something inside him _broke_.

"This goodbye, you idiot! He'll come and he'll take you again if I look at you! So leave at once for your own safety!" he yelled. His voice sounded foreign to his own ears, parched from thirst and raw from fumes.

"Then what was the point?" Pinky's hand tightened around Brain's shoulder. "Why would you rescue me only so you could tell me to leave? Why would you come after me and get hurt so much? At least you'd have the world if I'd just stayed there!"

"I WOULDN'T HAVE THE WORLD IF YOU REMAINED IN HELL, PINKY!" Brain screamed back. "I WOULDN'T HAVE ANYTHING!"

Not the one that truly mattered, anyway.

Pinky's long tail drooped, ears falling back. Tears spilled out of his blue eyes.

And Brain's anger melted away, replaced by all-consuming fear. His temper struck again, and he'd forgotten.

He'd turned around.

And he was looking straight at Pinky, right into the sorrowful expression he wore.

"No," Brain whispered, shaking his head as he put as much distance between himself and Pinky as he could. But his body wouldn't cooperate. He only managed a few shaky steps backwards. The lab was always so big. Why did it feel so tiny now?

Pinky was close. Far too close.

_He'd looked._

The Devil was coming.

Lurking in any shadow, ready to snatch Pinky.

"He's coming, Pinky!" Brain cried. "You have to get out of here now!"

"Who's coming?" Pinky asked, reaching for Brain again. "Brain, are you alright? Your ears are floppy."

He wasn't even trying to run.

"No, I can't let him take you. Not again!" Brain quickly glanced around the room. Surely there had to be plenty of places for a mouse to hide!

But the drawers were far too obvious, desk items could be moved easily, and his mind wouldn't work just like every plan he ever came up with didn't work and his attempts to protect Pinky would end in failure and he failed even when he wasn't after the world and he just wanted to do something good for once without failing miserably-

White filled his vision as he was pressed against a warm chest by a gentle arm. A strong heartbeat thumped against his ear. A hand gently slipped under his chin, tilting his head up until he was looking into reassuring, sky blue eyes.

Despite the tears, Pinky's gaze promised only hope and light and companionship.

Then Pinky carefully touched the area Snowball had jabbed, the center of Brain's forehead where the pitchfork almost crushed him, until his hand lingered on the cheek he'd elbowed during their fight on the podium.

Gentle. Kind. Worried.

And Brain cried. Pinky held him close, not complaining when Brain's tears dampened his fur or when the leftover crimson dust smudged against him. Tears splashed against Brain's head, and he wrapped his own arms around Pinky, just to let him know it was alright if he needed to release his tears too. He didn't know if he was hugging too tightly or holding too loosely, nor did he know if his arms were in the correct position at all.

Brain stroked the fur along Pinky's spine, hoping the gesture conveyed that he forgave Pinky for accidentally hurting him. He took Pinky's tiny hum as a good sign.

Pinky had been deprived of all sensation. This was comfort for him, just the reassurance of touching Brain. Of being close to him.

They stayed that way until nothing was left but exhaustion and damp fur along their cheeks. Brain's legs buckled, unable to hold him up any longer.

Pinky caught him. "It's okay, Brain. I'll carry you," he said, and his tone left no room for argument.

Never once did Brain feel like he was going to fall during Pinky's climb up the counter. He only relished the close contact.

But he had to let go all too soon.

Pinky set Brain on the counter, then brought him a thimble of water from their bottle. The cool water flowed down his throat, bringing him much needed relief. He sipped slowly, giving Pinky time to dampen several fluffy towels in the sink.

"Pinky, aren't you tired?" Brain asked as he exchanged the thimble for three small towels. One was damp, another held strawberry-scented soap, and the last one was dry.

But Pinky shook his head, yawning loudly as he skipped away to clean himself as well. He made lots of noise as he freshened up, just to let Brain know he was there.

And with his mouth wide open too. It was rather uncouth, and despite his exhaustion, Brain rolled his eyes at just how Pinky-like that action was.

Brain made sure to use all three towels the way Pinky intended, scrubbing out the dust with the damp towel, and to his surprise, it came out rather easily, then rubbed the strawberry scented soap and clean water into his fur, and finally dried himself off with the last towel.

As he patted down his fur to try and get it into some order, Pinky came back. The messy tuft on his head stuck out in every possible direction, and so did the rest of his fur.

"You're a mess," Brain sighed as Pinky picked him up and carried him back to the cage. Pinky laughed softly as Brain flattened a particularly egregious tuft on Pinky's shoulder. The acrid fire and brimstone scent was gone, and now they smelled of fresh strawberries.

They settled into their shared bed. Pinky set Brain down on his preferred side, then pulled away. Pinky frowned for the barest second, but it was quickly replaced by a gentle smile.

Yet he knew Pinky still needed physical contact.

And so did he.

"Pinky?" Brain whispered.

Pinky took that as an invitation to pull Brain into a secure hold. "Yes, Brain?"

"Don't go…" Brain nuzzled into Pinky's chest, into the odd yet comforting warmth he freely gave. One last stray tear slipped from his eye. "Please don't go."

Instead of replying with words, Pinky rested his jaw on top of Brain's and hummed softly, the vibration soothing to his worried mind. His tail draped over Brain's waist to anchor him.

" _Just say narf, just say narf._

_We're alright, we're okay, so let's say narf._

_You and I will have tomorrow nights again._

_No matter what happens, I'm always your friend…"_

The melody was soft, the rhythm reassuring. Brain closed his eyes and believed in Pinky's familiar song.

They were together. Tomorrow night would come. He was sure of it.

**Author's Note:**

> So...I'll be real, some parts of these were really hard for me to write cause I feel so bad for torturing them like this. Give them love guys. They need it.


End file.
